


a queenly meeting, of sorts

by orphan_account



Category: The Inheritance Cycle - Christopher Paolini
Genre: Eragon - Freeform, F/F, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-12
Updated: 2017-08-12
Packaged: 2018-12-14 07:30:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11778333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Nasuada, queen of the Broddring Kingdom for a scant two years, finds herself needing companionship from someone in a similar position.





	a queenly meeting, of sorts

She never truly understood how difficult leading a kingdom would be. Of course, Nasuada had led the Varden, a resistance against Galbatorix's empire, but even then she had had friends and advisors with her at all times. Even Eragon, young as he may be, was a close friend and ally to her. But now that he had left Alagaesia, and her only advisors were stuffy noblemen, she felt very alone. More alone than she had ever felt, more alone than when she was held prisoner by Galbatorix. Then, she had had Murtagh to provide even a brief respite from her illusory hell, but he had left months ago, fleeing from the Kingdom. She briefly considered inviting the witch Angela to her quarters (for as odd as she could be she was rather interesting) but decided against it.

Nasuada decided to go for a walk and assess how the rebuilding measures were coming along. Much of Ilirea (Nasuada had restored it to its Elven name, as Galbatorix had named it Uru'Baen) had been destroyed in the final stand against the armies of the evil empire, and in the nearly two years that had passed, the new tenants had begun work to repair it. She passed many men at work, noting that the homes and other buildings within the inner city were nearly fully restored. She marveled at the pace at which they could work, hoping that the whole city would be nearly restored within the decade. As she walked, she saw a smattering of couples, embracing, walking hand in hand; and she felt a pain in her heart, feeling even worse than before. She knew she needed someone to confide in, someone who new how difficult it was to be a leader: she needed Arya, the queen of the elves who resided in the ancient forest of Du Weldenvarden.

She took off the next day, bringing only her horse, a small ration of food and a water skin, her dagger, and a long, plain cloak to hide her identity. About a day and a half after she had set off, she arrived at the edge of the ancient forest. Even here, at its farthest reaches, the trees grew nearly seventy feet high and almost twenty feet around. She stayed as quiet as possible; some unconscious urge told her to remain silent here. Nasuada took a deep breath, bracing herself, and began to ride slowly into the forest. But before she could go more than a few yards, she heard the sounds of horses' hooves, padding lightly against the pine straw littering the forest floor. And, almost as if she had seen her coming, Arya, resplendent even in a plain green jerkin and brown riding trousers, rode from the forest and smiled lightly at Nasuada.

"Greetings, Queen Nasuada! How have you found your way here?"  
For a moment Nasuada was tongue-tied; she didn't know what to say. She had always known how to greet nobility, as her father, and later her, had led the Varden. But this was not an issue of conduct. Nasuada felt flushed all over, in a way she never had when talking to someone. Quickly remembering not to offend Arya, she responded with the formal Elven greeting, which Arya completed.

Finding her voice, Nasuada answered, "What a surprise! In fact, I had come here in the hopes of speaking to you, Arya."

At this, Arya's face brightened. "You had? Excellent, for I have something I wish to show you. Please, come with me." Arya directed her fellow riders to return into the forest, and she rode up abreast of Nasuada.

Arya's demeanor had become almost catlike, but playful. "It's not very far ahead, I assure you," she promised.

After only about twenty minutes of skirting the forest's edge, they arrived at a small break in the trees; Arya dismounted and motioned for Nasuada to do the same. Although confused, Nasuada followed, glad to be spending more time with Arya anyhow.

As they walked through the trees, they entered a small clearing, the trees lining it seeming much younger than those in the rest of the forest. Nasuada noticed that the ground was littered with broken saplings, and she gathered that the new trees had been planted to make up for the destruction. But when she looked to the northern half of the clearing, she gasped: a green dragon, nearly as large as Saphira had been on the day she and Eragon left, lay curled in the broken trees and pine straw. Twin trails of smoke curled from its nose as it slept.  
Arya turned to Nasuada and said, "This is the dragon to whom I am bonded: Fírnen."

At this the dragon raised his head and blinked one greengage eye lazily at Nasuada, who responded with the most honoring elven greeting she knew, unsure of the dragon's social status. Arya's black eyes gleamed at her, and there was a blush to her cheeks. "Shall we ride?" she asked, extending a hand to Nasuada. Sure enough, Nasuada noticed a dual-seated saddle positioned on the dragon's back. As she stepped towards Arya, she found herself feeling heated all over again, and quickly dropped her hand as she climbed into the saddle. Fírnen took off running, and bounded into the sky, stretching his wings to their full span.

Nasuada gaped at the view; though it was night already, she could see much of the forest, more than she ever had before. The stars were like glittering gemstones studding some giant's bodice; and Nasuada was so awed by the scene that she unconsciously wrapped her arms around Arya's waist. Arya laughed into the wind, her voice a crystal bell in the cold air. They flew nearly half an hour in comfortable silence, until Arya turned to Nasuada.

"Has this been enjoyable for you as well?" she asked. Nasuada nodded in reply, nearly lost in Arya's eyes; and Arya gazed back at her with a matching expression. Softly, Arya ran her hand over Nasuada's jaw, and leaned in closer to her. She smelled, Nasuada thought, almost like crushed pine needles, and smoke. Gently, the two women's lips met, and Nasuada was overcome with a rush of realization: all that time she had spent, wanting to speak to Arya as only a friend, she had been wanting more. And she knew, now, that Arya felt the same way, and she wrapped her arms around the elf's waist and they kissed, again, almost reverently, as if they had walked into a temple of an unfamiliar religion, unsure of the customs and rituals they must respect to remain there.  
Nasuada broke from the kiss slowly, not wanting to leave. "Arya, I never knew you-"

"I will be the first to admit I took a large gamble in this endeavor, Nasuada. You needn't trouble yourself over me. I am truly just glad you are here now."

Nasuada found her eyes smarting with tears; she had never been spoken to with such deep care, never in a romantic context. She leaned her head to Arya's breast, and they flew on together, soaking up eachother's presence.


End file.
